


don't forget

by kakimashitaMOVED



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, TOO MUCH, Ugh, kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 14:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakimashitaMOVED/pseuds/kakimashitaMOVED
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guilt hurt more than the knife he had plunged into his skull. The brief memory offered a sharp stab of pain in his temple, but it was mere background noise to the tearing feeling in his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't forget

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a bad person for writing this, you have no idea how sorry i am
> 
> i have a headcanon that when aoba let clear be taken to the lab, he kept his gas mask as a reminder of him because he wasn't sure if he'd ever see him again
> 
> and thus, an angsty fanfiction is born
> 
> i'm so sorry

"Aoba-san, what is this doing in here?"  
  
Aoba turned his gaze to Clear, who was rifling through his closet curiously. He didn't mind the intrusiveness; he understood that Clear just wanted to know more about him, and he really didn't have anything to hide. When his eyes locked on the item in Clear's hands, however, he felt himself freeze on the spot.  
  
Clear had miraculously returned from the lab about a month ago, much to Aoba's tearful delight. It had taken him a long time to convince himself that this was all real, that Clear was here with him, that he wouldn't disappear in the second it took him to blink - he still sometimes felt his chest swell with emotion when he looked at the white-haired man, but it was never as painful as the year he had spent waiting for him to return.  
  
Still, when Clear pulled out the gas mask from the depths of Aoba's closet, his heart wrenched with painful memories.  
  
Clear watched him with furrowed eyebrows, already guessing what the problem was. His gloved hand tightened around the mask, and he lowered it slowly, removing it from Aoba's glassy stare. The blue-haired boy grimaced, turning his head away quickly. He could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes already, throat burning. He opened his mouth to try and offer an explanation, but he couldn't find his voice. Clear's features softened, and he regretted ever saying anything about his long-lost item. "Aoba-san, you don't have to say anything if you are uncomfortable..."  
  
Aoba let out a taut-sounding laugh, and it sounded painful in Clear's ears. "It's fine," Aoba said, and Clear noticed that his whole frame was shaking lightly. Reflexively, Clear leant back and put the mask back in the cupboard, striding towards Aoba and wrapping a supportive arm around him. Aoba leaned his head into the other man's shoulder, his breathing fast and almost frantic.  
  
"Aoba-san..."  
  
Wrapping his own shaking arms around Clear's waist, tears finally began to fall. He thought that he was done crying over this. "I kept it when I sent you to the lab," he explained in a tight voice. "I-I didn't know if... i-if I'd see you again-"  
  
His throat constricts at the end of his sentence, cutting at the end of his last word. He pulled Clear closer to him, pressing them together as if he could mould their bodies into one. Clear indulged him without question, wanting nothing more than to soothe Aoba's deep-set sorrow. Unconsciously, he thought that this was all his fault.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered into Aoba's ear, his own voice beginning to falter. "If I had not been so selfish back then and asked you to grant my wish..."  
  
"Clear, don't-"  
  
"But if I had listened to you, then maybe I would not have had to leave you at all!" He clutched desperately at Aoba's back, regret and pain filling his body. Aoba kept silent, his grip on Clear's coat never softening. "I thought it was the right choice to do what I did, but all that it ended up doing was hurting Aoba-san. If I had listened, I know now that you could have saved me! You wanted so badly to help me, and I didn't let you... I-I'm so sorry that I caused all this pain for you, Aoba-san."  
  
The guilt hurt more than the knife he had plunged into his skull. The brief memory offered a sharp stab of pain in his temple, but it was mere background noise to the tearing feeling in his heart. Clear sniffed quietly, tears silently rolling down his cheeks as he wallowed in his regret. The last memories he had of his time with Aoba before he faded were wonderful; he couldn't have asked for a more peaceful end, and he thought he was blessed to be given another chance with him. He hadn't, on the other hand, thought of how terrible it must have been for Aoba to be on the receiving end of that memory. He could recall the tear-soaked kisses he had pressed into his mouth, his shaky voice as he'd told him how he loved him, how human he was, the terrified expression on his face as his vision blurred and faded away. It must have been awful for him to experience that, Clear now realised.  
  
Aoba pulled back eventually, holding Clear's face between his hands. “Don’t say things like that,” he mumbled, eyes puffy and red as he avoided Clear’s watchful gaze. Slowly, he leaned in and touched their foreheads together, letting out a shaky breath. He pressed kisses into his forehead, the bridge of his nose, the soft skin under his eyes. All the while, he muttered to the other, "I love you," "It doesn't matter," "It's not your fault," "Please don't blame yourself." When he finally pressed his lips over Clear's, he began talking hesitantly. "I don't regret what we did," He said, voice soft but firm, "and even though it hurt me to do it, I don't regret fulfilling your wish, either."  
  
Clear felt his heart flip erratically, emotions welling up again at Aoba's words. "But... How could you still-"  
  
Aoba grabbed Clear's chin and forced him to look into his eyes. "Clear, I said-" he started to interject, but Clear kept talking.  
  
"-love me after all this?"  
  
Aoba made a pained face, immediately embracing the white-haired man. "Don't say stupid things like that," he mumbled. "Of course I still love you."  
  
"Aoba-san," Clear breathed, arms circling around Aoba's back. After a few moments, he tentatively whispered, "M-Master..."  
  
Aoba's breath hitched in his throat and, after burying his face into the scarf wrapped around Clear's neck, chuckled quietly. "Never thought you'd call me that again," he muttered. "I thought we were past that."  
  
There's a fond tone in his voice that Clear could identify, so he doesn't mind the words. "Sorry," he apologised with a smile. "Aoba-san?"  
  
Aoba didn't respond at first, but eventually grunted in reply. Clear's smile just widened even more, and he buried his nose into Aoba's silky blue hair. With a contented sigh, he took a moment of his own before responding.  
  
"I love you too, Aoba-san."

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry


End file.
